


You Didn't Think About It Like That, Did You?

by YellowWomanontheBrink



Series: Community: Norsekink [2]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Community: norsekink, F/M, Fill, Gossip, I Can't Sleep, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-11
Updated: 2013-12-11
Packaged: 2018-01-04 08:15:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,767
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1078680
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YellowWomanontheBrink/pseuds/YellowWomanontheBrink
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When Loki married Sigyn, a boring an mildly unattractive girl by aesir standards, everyone was just counting down the days until the breakup. Most are sorely disappointed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Didn't Think About It Like That, Did You?

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: Loki starts to court the lady Sigyn to the baffelment of everyone. She does not seem to be the kind of woman he would go for and they wonder if perhaps he is planing to play a cruel trick on her.
> 
> Nope. Loki is heads over heels in love with Sigyn and she in turn loves him. As time goes by other people starts noticing Loki is serious about Sigyn, they just dont understand why?
> 
> Bonuses:
> 
> +10 Sigyn is a short pudgy woman with wild red hair and buck teeth.
> 
> +100 Sigyn and her family are nobility but they are neither very rich or particularly politicaly influential.
> 
> +1000 Sigyn is kind, intelligent and has a wicked sense of humor wich is why Loki became attracted to her to begin with.

If there was one wedding that would forever go down in the memory of the aesir, it was the marriage of the second prince Loki and his wife, Sigyn.

The Prince Loki was a striking man, if not handsome in the traditional sense. Long faced and lithe, he stood nearly as tall as his brother, the Prince Thor, who stood head and shoulders amongst most Aesir. His hands were big and his eyes were bright, and he spoke eloquently as a scholar does, strode with the confidence of a warrior, and slouched with the lewdness of a whore when his posture was not pole straight and proud. He had strong, harsh features and a quiet, lilting voice, and could be clever and generous when the mood struck, arrogant and unforgiving the next.

The second prince was a chaotic, powerful, fickle creature, and upon meeting the man one never forgot him.

His wife, on the other hand, was so undeniably boring most people forgot she existed (rumors of Loki’s promiscuity still lingered, so forgotten was she.)

Sigyn was tawny skinned and plump, and hardly reached up to her husband’s chest when she stood beside him. Her hair was always pulled back tight into an enormous bun that still mostly managed to fail to tame her odd reddish curls. She freckled and had a large gap between her prominent front teeth, nestled comfortably between thick lips that always seemed slightly pursed. Her ears were slightly pointed, her eyes were owlish and a brown so dark they almost appeared the color of her husband’s hair. She was heavy hipped and flat chested, and nothing she wore would ever make her fair.

Her family not being one of great prestige, it was assumed she was the result of an affair with a slave in her own household. She had no extraordinary talents--she was a fair hand at healing, was well informed in most subjects. In fact, before she had been betrothed, she had dreamed of opening an academy of learning in the capital. But she was not a warrior, nor a volva. Just Sigyn.

Most people forgot Sigyn a few minutes after meeting her. She was quiet, and rarely did she seek out conversations herself.

So, the day after Theoric, Captain of the royal told his soldiers of his betrothal, most of the warrior class of the palace was excited. At the large communal feasts that most of the warriors went to to eat, he was bragging (in a manner that was more akin to whining. He was a handsome young thing with a nearly unquenchable libido.)

“Father has betrothed me to a maiden,” he boomed, slamming down his tankard. “We will be married before the Allmother on the next moon.”

Now, warriors complaining about trivial things was all quite ordinary. What was out of the ordinary that day was the second prince’s attendance, as he rarely attended these sort of things.

“Who be it, Theoric? Did you snag the pretty ljoalfr you were going after?” 

“Some noble little thing. Demure, with the largest teeth you ever seen on a girl. When she smiles--mind you, she only did it once, too, sternest maiden I ever seen-- you can see all her gums. She looks like a pregnant mare,” he bitched, throwing his boots on the table and belching a little. “I think her name was Sigrid?”

“Sigyn,” Loki said suddenly, quietly, but not so quiet that his voice did not carry throughout the room. They all quieted and turned to look at him. “Her name is Sigyn Lofndottir. You’d do best to remember her name, Theoric. I’ll be taking my leave of you.”

Just like that, the second prince of Asgard got up and strode out of the hall he had been dining in. Theoric stared after the prince a bit, before shaking his head and carrying on to his remaining audience.

Loki knew exactly who Theoric was talking about, and so he sought out the object of his desires: Sigyn Lofndottir. He headed to the scholar’s wing of the grand palace, past the masters of their crafts down past the apprentices’ wings, further into the beginner’s halls, where large classes of peasant girls were being educated for the future of running their households. 

Or, Sigyn’s workplace.

She was aiding the sewing mistress with some of the more ornery young girls; the ones who struggled with the art of tiny stitches.

Loki wished that there had been an aid like Lady Sigyn when he was first learning to wield a sword. The little brats had no idea how fortunate they were that Sigyn had the patience of a saint.

The entire class fell silent when Loki walked in, donned casually. They all stood and bowed. He smiled.

“May I ask after the Lady Sigyn?”

Sigyn smiled and put down her embroidery, bowed to the mistress of the class and gestured to Loki to wait for her in the corridor; he obliged, stepping outside. 

Sigyn followed soon after, closing the heavy door as gently as possible behind her.

“What’s all this, then?” she asked, annoyed. “I love you, Loki, but not everyone here’s a prince! Some of us actually have to work, love.”  
He put his elbow on her head, knowing that she hated it, and laughed lightly. “I would not interrupt your job without cause, Sigyn. What is this I hear about a marriage?”

He could feel her body stiffen against him. “So you heard, did you?”

“Yes,” he replied simply. He voice was hard, but with no real malice to it. He would have the truth.

“Father engaged me to Theoric. I hardly know him, but apparently, he’s rising in the warrior class. Noble, from a rich family. He’s younger.”

Loki sneered. “Is your father stupid, or is he simply stupid?”

“Don’t say things like that, Loki, he is my father. If you plan to keep all those promises you go on about, then you better speaker softer words of him.”

“My words are as soft as your chest,” he teased.

“Hard and bony? Yes, quite soft I see.”

He pinched her arm fat gently. “I don’t see a single bony part of you, love.”

“That’s because all you see is my bum,” she said, perfectly straight-faced.

“Really? I’m pretty sure that from this angle all I see is your ridiculous hair. It looks bigger than your head.”

“So says you. I need not spend hours taming ridiculous fluffy curls. Mine are respectable.”

She ignored him for bit as the walked; his strides long and her a quick pitter patter on the cold marble of the palace halls. Her mind was elsewhere, even as she teased Loki back about his untanable skin and fluffy hair.

She hardly even noticed when he led her into his private hall, and closed the door behind him, taking her to the smallest sitting room and drawing off her shoes.

“Sigyn,” he said, all light heartedness gone from his tone. “Do you want to marry Theoric?”

“Absolutely not,” she grimaced. “I’d sooner kill him than marry the fool.”

He paused, licking his thin lips. “I’ll have to ask you to do just that.”

She blinked. And then blinked again. Loki, god of everything-the-aesir-abhor, asking her to follow the rules? To marry a man she found despicable, shallow in his youth and unwilling?  
“Are you daft?”

“No.”

She looked suspiciously at him, but because she was so unsure and conflicted, decided to trust him, just this once. She would trust him with her life, just as Loki trusted hers with his.

“...my father is giving me no choice, and it looks like you will not speak for me either,” she huffed. “Very well. I’ll be seeing you, my prince.”

Loki’s expression didn’t even change, so deep in thought was he. “Yes, love. I’ll be seeing you.”

One month later, at the wedding, when the ribbon tied around Theoric’s thick hand was tied to Loki’s long slender fingers and wide palms, Sigyn found she was pleasantly surprised, if not impressed with the anticipation. The Queen was absolutely ecstatic when Sigyn refused to nullify the bond and Loki’s smile was so wide and more natural than she’d ever seen it (in a long, long time). 

And then he swept her right up and kissed her in front of her father, well, that satisfaction made her almost forgive him for keeping her in the dark.

_____________________________

Two noble ladies sat in the garden gossiping. They were young, and the perfect asynja brides for any self respectable man--tall, with long flowing hair and clear, light blue eyes, and rosy skin that was not to dark and not to pale.

“I heard that Prince Loki rejected a vanr the other day at the welcoming feast.”

“He did not!”

“Mmm, and apparently, he’s trying to use the Lady Sigyn as an excuse to reject all the propositions he gets.”

‘The fat wench he married?”

“Shh, not so loud! The dark prince is hardly forgiving, especially not if he hears speaking about his beloved so!”

“She has horse teeth!”

“And hair as ratty as a dokkalfr, but that’s no reason to be petty.”

“I’ll be as petty as I wish, thank you very much.”

“Do shut up.”

“Hmph, and he was so talented too!”

“You’ve slept with him?”

“Oh yes! The most amazing night I’ve ever had….he doesn’t tell, but if Lady Sigyn really is getting all of it, then damn her for not sharing.”

“It’ll hardly last long. Just hold out and I’m sure you’ll be allowed to service him again, you petty whore.”

The other girl pushed her off the bench that they shared, and she toppled over with a loud squawk.

 

________________________________

In the following years, more and ,more eager ladies of Asgard waited and waited and waited and waited, and waited.

What were they waiting for, might you ask?

Why, for Loki to divorce Sigyn (Kind Sigyn, Grim Sigyn she was called, for she finally got her academy) and be available to his thirsty female (and male) clientele.

Warriors who had placed bets on how long the joke would last lost all their money.

Nobles who were biding their time to try and marry their daughters off to a prince were sorely disappointed.

Thor collected quite some revenue from the soldiers. He wasn’t surprised at all; Loki and Sigyn had been at it for far too long to be broken up by something as small as a betrothal. He just thought that they got married in quite the Lokean way. 

Completely unique and unexpected.

~end

**Author's Note:**

> Pretty short, wrote it in like, an hour to try and stifle my insomnia.


End file.
